


First Kiss

by wingsofanillyrian



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Cuteness and fluff, F/M, Kisses, Rewrite of starfall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 12:33:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14112429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsofanillyrian/pseuds/wingsofanillyrian
Summary: What if Feyre and Rhys hadn't been interrupted on the balcony?





	First Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place directly in the middle of chapter 44 of ACOMAF, an alternative Starfall!!
> 
> Note: Everything in italics was not written by me, but by Sarah J Maas.

_“They don’t know—what she did to me on Starfall. I don’t want it to ruin their night.”_

_“I don’t think it would. They’d be happy if you let them shoulder the burden.”_

_“The same way you rely on others to help with your own troubles?”_

_We stared at each other, close enough to share breath._

_And maybe all those words bottled up in me… Maybe I didn’t need them right now._

_My fingers grazed his. Warm and sturdy—patient, as if waiting to see what else I might do. Maybe it was the wine, but I stroked a finger down his._

“I’d let you help.” My voice was just loud enough for him to hear, our eyes locked. Emboldened, I curled my fingers around two of his own. I turned to face him more fully, drawing in a deep breath.

“Tell me how I can help, and I’ll do it.” His hand turned over, engulfing mine.

My gaze dipped to his lips, then back up to pools of violet night. “I think… I need someone to be soft with me.” Cassian had been a hardass about my training, Azriel rarely opened up to anyone, and Morrigan was kind, but it wasn’t the sort of attention I craved.

“I can be soft,” Rhys purred, his free hand rising to cup my cheek. I leaned into the touch, emotions reaching a fever pitch within me. He dipped his head so our noses were millimeters apart. I nudged my chin up, lips nearly touching.

“I don’t want to push this on you.”

But that was just it: he hadn’t pushed anything. Not since the moment he had saved me from marrying Tamlin. He had given me every choice, allowed me to carve my own path. He wouldn’t cage me. He would never hurt me like Tamlin had.

Maybe the green streaks in the sky had filled me with an inner peace I hadn’t felt in so long. Maybe it was the way I’d often caught him looking at me, as if I had hung the moon in the sky.

Maybe it didn’t matter why; perhaps it only mattered that it was my  _choice._

I surged up, capturing his lips with mine. He froze, stunned by my sudden onslaught, but recovered quickly and melted against me. Our bodies molded against one another, as if we were crafted from the same swath of night sky.

I gripped fistfuls of the silky fabric of his shirt as the force of the kiss threatened to send me tipping over the balcony. He must have remembered my fear from earlier about falling over, and he broke away. His thumb stroked the base of my neck, soothing any worry I may have had. There was something off about his eyes when he gazed into mine. They held longing and lust, sure, but also something guarded and warring.

“Feyre, I have something I need to tell you.” His voice was scratchy; our kiss had stolen the breath from his lungs. His eyes beseeched me, the hunched set of his shoulders leaving him looking raw and vulnerable, like an exposed nerve.

It was unsettling, to see this powerful High Lord unsure of himself. Whatever this secret was must have been weighing on him heavily for some time. I reached up, pushing his inky hair off his forehead.

“You can tell me, Rhys.”

“I want you to know that what I have to say doesn’t change anything between us.”

“Alright, what is it?” I shifted my weight, laughing nervously in attempt to dissipate the tension. I lay my hand on his arm, the muscles taut beneath my fingertips. I frowned. I’d never seen Rhys this way, so broken up over something.

“Rhys, you’re worrying me.”

“Feyre…” He drew in a ragged breath, finally meeting my eyes once more. “You’re my mate.”

The words clanged around in my skull and I stumbled back a step. Hurt flashed across his beautiful face, and he took a step forward to follow me. I put out my hand to stop him, the other pressed to my temple as the world spun.

Mate?

Mate.

Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, was my _mate._

“Feyre, please.” His hand reached out to my elbow, steadying me. I didn’t have the heart to push him away. “This doesn’t change anything, I swear.”

“But it does,” I insisted, letting him lead me to a bench so I could sit. “Coupled with that kiss, it changes how I see you.” I didn’t think about how my words would affect him.

His shoulders slumped, gaze falling to the floor. “I understand. If you don’t ever want to see my face again, I’d understand. I kept this secret for far too long. It wasn’t fair.”

I shook my head, more at myself than at him. “I can’t believe this.”

“I know,” he said quietly, lacing his hands together in front of him. “All I can say is that I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

Frowning, I looked up at him. He was a handsome, modest creature, full of light and love even though he had every right to be bitter and cruel after all he had endured. What had I done to deserve someone like him?

“Rhysand…”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, the traveling spirits illuminating him in their ghastly green glow. They cast shadows on half of his angular face, bathing him in further mystery as his gaze met mine. I patted the seat next to me, and he hesitated.

“I won’t bite.” I smiled a bit, and some of the tension eased from him as he perched on the edge of the concrete bench. I scooted closer, resting my head on his shoulder.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“You don’t hate me? Don’t want to push me off this balcony?”

I threw my head back and laughed. “No, Rhysand.” I pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, and he blushed. “I would like to see where this goes.”


End file.
